


I Loved You Then (And I Love You Now)

by skyline



Series: Stardust [1]
Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: District Four, Hunger Games AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyline/pseuds/skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He recaptures James's attention with a stray ray, all rubbery smooth skin. Kendall uses the empty shell of a horse shoe crab, stained blue with blood, to pull his new friends close to the mountain of rocks that shelter their tiny slice of sea life from the ocean that would wash it all away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Loved You Then (And I Love You Now)

**Author's Note:**

> A month or two ago, I wrote a drabble called Stardust on LJ where Kendall was Finnick Odair and James was Annie Cresta. Lilahfrost, who is an amazing, beautiful human being, wrote [this](http://lilahfrost.livejournal.com/4901.html). The whole verse then spiraled out of control, and a bunch of tiny drabbles and longer fic appeared from the ether. I'll be posting them chronologically (meaning Stardust comes later).

There is a small, pale girl staring at the rickety wooden dock like it might jump up and bite her with splintered teeth.  Her friend, a tall boy with bronze skin and eyes that reflect gold tells her, "It's okay."  
  
Kendall rolls his eyes, trying to focus on the Carrick Bend he’s attempting to learn. It’s too complicated. His fingers won’t work right, the line keeps getting tangled, and he keeps having to start all over again. At this rate, he’ll never have it down in time. He was hoping to go on deck tomorrow.   
  
Looks like he’ll be stuck in the galley with his dad and the new guppy class.   
  
Again.   
  
The girl in front of him dips her toe in the water, testing. Wind stirs the chop like soup. It licks at her foot, and she jumps. Kendall sighs. “Look, kid. You’ll be fine.”  
  
“Don’t call her kid,” the boy snarls. “We’re the same age as you.”   
  
Kendall reassesses the situation. “Are we?”  
  
“We’re in the same year at school!”  
  
Kendall doesn’t pay much attention at school. Like, ever. But it doesn’t make sense. Maybe he would have overlooked the scrawny, frightened girl, but he definitely would have noticed this boy. Wouldn’t he? “Right. So how come I’ve been able to backstroke for a year and you’re both guppies?” He gestures towards the group of kids standing on the shore, squealing every time a wave crashes towards them. The first free swim always riles up the littles, even with neon floaties attached to their arms.   
  
The boy falters, picking at his own inflatable wings. His ribs stick out at odd angles, too visible beneath the sheath of his skin. Kendall wonders if he hasn’t eaten, recently. His fingers fret with his line. “I had to help my mom at the shipyard.”  
  
Kendall blinks. “You were scared.”  
  
“I was not.”  
  
“Were too,” he insists, because no mother in her right mind holds off on introducing her kid to the sea. Not unless she’s one hundred percent sure the kid in question isn’t going to try to make their own introductions. Too many children in Four go that way, sucked into a riptide without knowing how to fight it.   
  
That’s what Kendall’s mom says, anyway. She would know; she’s been captain of her own trawler since, like, before Panem became a country.   
  
"James wasn't scared!" The girl protests, her voice stronger than Kendall expected. She tosses her hair, haughty, and says, "He wanted to take the course with me."  
  
"So... _you_ were scared?"  
  
The girl bristles. “So what? If human beings were meant to swim, we’d be born with gills.”  
  
Kendall scratches behind his own ear, checking. Gills would be awesome.   
  
Honestly, he doesn’t remember not being able to swim. Parents aren’t supposed to teach their kids how before their fifth birthday, but like most fishmongers’ spawn, he learned for real when he was three. His guppy classes last year were just a formality. District mandate.   
  
Except for one thing.   
  
Kendall may be one with the waves when he’s swimming in ‘em, but it took him a lot longer to adjust to life on top of them. Rooks alternate; one day in the sea, one day out in the sun. Kendall thrived at the former, but his first few months on a rundown sixty five footer weren’t exactly stellar. His face turned shades of green he hadn’t known were possible, his stomach lived in his throat, and all the while his insurmountable pride twinged. The son of a guppy instructor isn’t supposed to get seasick. It took Kendall ages to live down the mockery he got from that one, in school and over the dinner table, from his own parents.   
  
He decides some secrets are best kept.   
  
“Don’t be nervous. The water’s great.”  
  
The girl bites her lip. James- Kendall likes that name- wraps his arm around her thin shoulders. Kendall thinks it must be nice, having a friend. She says, “The water swallows people. We lost my grandpa out there. Last year.”  
  
Oh. That Kendall can understand. The devil lives in the deep blue sea. His mom says that too.   
  
On the beach, the guppies are running into the shallow waves, giggling as they lap at their legs. One instructor lords over them with stern eyes. Kendall’s dad wrangles a few in his arms, swinging them up into the air before attempting to demonstrate a doggie paddle.   
  
James says, “Why don’t you just leave us alone? She's allowed to be scared.”  
  
He crosses his floatie-clothed arms and glares at Kendall in challenge. Kendall stands, shoving his disaster of a Carrick Bend into the pocket of his threadbare trunks. “Sure, okay. But I could teach you not to be. Scared, I mean.”  
  
“Why would you want to?” James asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously.  
  
Kendall shrugs. “The water’s home. No one should be afraid of it.”   
  
It’s true; the sea is all he’s ever known.   
  
"We don't need your help," James grits out.  
  
The girl hesitates. “I’m Camille.”  
  
“Kendall,” Kendall says, holding out a hand to shake. Camille's fingers flop into his like a fish on dry land, unsure what to do. Kendall snorts. “We’ll work on that too.”  
  
He takes them both to his favorite tide pool, half a mile down the beach. James drags his feet, but Camille follows closely. The sun is baked into the sand, warm between their toes. These are Kendall's favorite kind of afternoons, when there isn’t any school and all his work is done for the day. At the pool, he splashes right in, salty cool enveloping his ankles. Foam settles across the surface of the calm, fluffy white and yellow with the age of hours.   
  
James and Camille stand safe on the sand, staring.   
  
“Come on,” Kendall calls.   
  
Camille shakes her head. James stays adamantly by her side.   
  
“It doesn’t get any deeper,” Kendall promises. Neither of them budge.   
  
Kendall figures out quick that he will have to coax them into the shallows. A flash of color catches his eyes, neon pink against the grainy sand. Kendall grins and carefully scoops it up. He offers it to James in the palm of his hand, like a rose.   
  
“What’s that?” James asks suspiciously.   
  
“An urchin.”  
  
Camille takes a step forward, on the edge of the still water. “It’s so bright. Can I touch it?”  
  
“Sure,” Kendall says. He does not move.   
  
Reluctantly, the duo approaches, glued at the hip. James wasn’t kidding about working in the shipyard. Motor oil slithers from the skin of his ankles in a rainbow black slick. Kendall is still pleased. He shows them both how to stroke over the spines of the urchin without getting pricked. When that loses its appeal, he heads further out into the pool, beckoning Camille forward with sand dollars and sea stars. He recaptures James's attention with a stray ray, all rubbery smooth skin. Kendall uses the empty shell of a horse shoe crab, stained blue with blood, to pull his new friends close to the mountain of rocks that shelter their tiny slice of sea life from the ocean that would wash it all away.   
  
“A gull got at it,” Kendall explains while James turns the husk this way and that.   
  
Camille is almost eager when she asks, “What else is there?”  
  
“I can show you.” Kendall grins. He clambers up onto the rocks and over, crashing straight into the water on the other side, diving beneath the surface with ease. Fractured sunlight color blocks his skin, from peach to pale gold to somewhere in between. He bobs back up to algae slick rocks and tells James and Camille to _jump in_ , happy as a sea lion.   
  
“I can’t,” Camille replies, watching him, aghast. The surf isn’t nearly as rough on this end of the beach as it is down near the docks, but the waves batter against the sharp jut of stone, sending spray everywhere. It clings to Kendall’s eyelashes and his cheeks and the plush of his lips.   
  
“The wings’ll keep you floating. And I’ll keep you safe."  
  
Resolute, James squeezes Camille's hand and adds, "I will too."  
  
Before Kendall can object, he cannonballs right on top of him. They tumble under the waves, limbs tangled like seaweed before James's water wings buoy them to the surface. Kendall wheezes salt water, surprised by James's reckless idiocy.   
  
James lies back, floating easily, grinning. "What? I never said I was scared. Camille, c'mon! This is fun."  
  
"Please,” Kendall urges. He has no urchins to offer this time, so instead he gives up a gap toothed smile. James echoes it, as radiant as the sun playing off the ocean. Beneath the water, his hand brushes against Kendall's arm, and he squeezes. It feels like a _thank you_.   
  
Camille's jaw goes tight, her little chest puffing out.   
  
“If I drown, I’m going to be so mad at you guys,” she says. She takes a deep breath.   
  
She jumps.  


End file.
